What Fools These Mortals Be
by Purple Eyed Cat
Summary: "What the hell are you doing, Joe? Nona said you brought Tiffany here. Last time I checked, Mel Burke and Tiffany Longo are not the same person!" Tony Longo comes home for his Nona's birthday and finds that not everything is as it seems. Spoilers for 3x14, "What Happens in Jersey, Part 1." One-shot, complete.


**A/N: Hi, everyone! With such a great two part arc being given to us, I knew I had to do something with it. "What Happens in Jersey, Part 1," did not disappoint, and led to this. Since I refuse to believe that Tony didn't show up at all that weekend, this is the result. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine. The title belongs to Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream." **

**Summary: **"What the hell are you doing, Joe? Nona said you brought Tiffany here. Last time I checked, Mel Burke and Tiffany Longo are not the same person!" Tony Longo comes home for his Nona's birthday and finds that not everything is as it seems. Spoilers for 3x14, "What Happens in Jersey, Part 1." One-shot, complete.

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What Fools These Mortals Be

It wasn't Tony's intention to come home. He had wanted to, but as he has explained to his mother several times over the phone, he wasn't sure when his latest shoot would wrap.

Well, it wrapped two days earlier than expected, so now Tony is wandering down his old street, marveling that not much had changed since the last time he was here. As he heads towards his front door, he passes a rather familiar red SUV on the curb. He glances at it, then dismisses it. Who knows how many relatives are here for Nona's birthday—it could be any of theirs. He takes the steps two at a time, and as he reaches the top, the door swings open as if inviting him in, and his mother is revealed in the doorway.

She rocks back a little, as surprised at his sudden appearance as he is at hers, and then a broad grin splits her face. "My Tony!" she cries, and he is enveloped in the warmth that he has known since birth.

He leans into her a little, pushing his camera bag farther up his shoulder with his free arm. "Hi, Ma."

Gloria pulls back to cup his face in her hands, worry pinching her brow. "Don't they feed you out there in the wild? What have you been eating? You're too skinny. Why didn't you call and say you were coming? Come in, come in! Everyone's here, Nona will be so happy to see you!"

He doesn't answer, and she doesn't give him time to give one. Whatever she was going outside to do is forgotten as she ushers him in, and Tony gratefully steps into the house, the familiar scent of his childhood washing over him. Something is cooking, and if he knows his mother, there will be _capicola _waiting for him on the kitchen table.

His mother is chattering at him, telling him who is here, but Tony isn't really listening. He knows that almost everyone will be here, even the cousins he only sees twice a year at reunions such as these, and that the house will be bursting at the seams with Longos. Her voice drops for a moment, as if confiding a secret, but then they're in the living room, and Tony is distracted by the brassy voice coming from the armchair.

"Antonio? Is that my Antonio?" That's his Nona. She's awake and holding court in her armchair, stubbornly ignoring the fact that his given name is actually Anthony. Everything is Italian to Nona, and nothing less will do.

Tony chuckles and crosses the room, bending down to kiss her papery, weathered cheek. "Hello, Nona. You're looking well! Not a day over eighty-five, right?"

"Hush." Nona lifts her cane and aims for his shins. Tony neatly shifts to the side at the last moment—she's stronger than she looks with that thing. "You're awful flirts, all you Longo men. How are you going to get a nice girl to marry you if you can never show her you're serious?"

Tony chuckles. "I've got a few more years before I do that, Nona." He decides it wouldn't be a good idea to mention that he's just spent the last week at a glamorous photo shoot with models out in LA who were more than happy to keep him company at night. All part of that Longo charm. He's not ready to settle down yet, he's got a few places left to see!

Nona continues as if he hasn't spoken, unmovable. "You should be more like Joey, with that wonderful wife of his. They have a good marriage. Find a good girl like Tiffany."

Tony gapes at her for a moment, completely thrown. His brain stutters, and he frantically hunts for an answer that will satisfy her. "I'll keep looking, Nona." It's an inane response, but it's the best he can do, being so gobsmacked, and his grandmother settles in her chair, looking pleased. Moments later, she is asleep again, worn out by the conversation.

Tony slides away from the slumbering woman and finds his mother staring at him, lips pursed, her hands on her hips. "What was _that_ all about?" He wonders, hitching his camera bag up when it starts to slip. He knows for a fact that Joe got divorced several years ago, and is working for Mel. Unless that's changed, and he's gotten married again? Why would Tiffany be here? To his knowledge, Nona has only met Tiffany once or twice, but had given her blessing when Joe asked for it. Tony had suspected that Nona was going blind even then, to allow Joe to marry such a heartless gold-digger.

His mother glares at him, then one hand flicks out to smack him on the back of the head, hard. "I don't talk to hear my own voice," she snaps in a whisper. "What is wrong with you? Weren't you listening to me? You have ears, use them!"

"Ow." Tony resists the urge to rub the back of his head where it throbs. He raises his voice to match her outraged whisper, cognizant that Nona is only a few feet away. "What is going on? Why would Joe bring Tiffany? How could you let her in this house?"

Gloria cuffs him again. "You watch your mouth! Respect your mother! Don't talk like you know everything when you don't know anything!"

"Fine, okay!" Tony raises his hands in surrender and backs away. "Geeze, Ma, okay. I'm sorry."

Their whispered diatribe is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by a familiar voice. "We're back! How is-"

Several shushing whispers cut the speaker off, and Tony watches as Joe strides into the room, a smile on his face. It falls for a moment, then broadens as he spots Tony. "Tony!" He bounds over to his brother, and Tony forces a stiff smile and allows himself to be pulled into a hug. "How're you doing, man? When we talked two weeks ago, you said you couldn't come, but…" he trails off and twists around to see what Tony is staring at. "What?"

Tony is staring in shock at the woman who has come wobbling into the room behind his brother, clearly a little unsteady in her four-inch-heels. The shoes are Tiffany, the orange-and-black leopard spotted dress is _most _definitely Tiffany, the hair is almost Tiffany…

…but the woman staring at him, her blue eyes wide with shock, is not Tiffany.

Mel Burke gapes at the younger Longo brother, who stares back, eyes equally wide, mouth dropped just as far. "Tony?" She wonders in a shocked whisper, making her careful way across the room to stand beside Joe. Tony doesn't miss the way she reaches out to curl her hand around Joe's arm. Possibly for balance, but Tony also notices the way Joe shifts closer, to give her more support.

Tony glares at his brother, dark eyes narrowed. "Joe, could I have a word? Outside?"

Joe's smile fades completely, and he glances from Mel to Tony and back again. "Sure," he says slowly, "but in the garage. I don't want the whole street hearing us."

_I bet you don't, _Tony thinks grimly to himself, turning his back on his mother and _Mel_ (seriously, what is she doing here?) and stalking out of the room.

* * *

The door leading from the garage back into the house barely clicks shut behind Joe before Tony has rounded on him.

"What the hell are you doing, Joe? Nona said you brought Tiffany here. Last time I checked, Mel Burke and Tiffany Longo are not the same person!"

Blowing out a long breath, Joe leans back against the door, crosses his arms over his chest, and runs a hand over his face. He suddenly looks weary, and Tony shifts where he stands, confusion starting to leak into his anger.

"Nona is dying. It's her heart."

"I know that," Tony snaps back, confusion starting to win over anger. He takes refuge in what little rage he has left. "The entire neighborhood knows it, Joe. What do you think you're doing, fooling an old woman like that?"

Joe drops his head to his chest and mumbles something. Tony leans forward, bouncing on his toes a little like a fighter preparing for a match. "I didn't hear you. What was that?"

Joe looks at him, dark eyes flat. "Ma called, giving me details about the party. Then she gave Nona the phone. Nona started talking about how she hadn't seen Tiffany in such a long time, and wasn't my wife coming with me to the party? I didn't know what to say."

Tony settles back into his original stance, feet planted on the floor, arms crossed over his chest, mirroring his brother. "And you couldn't tell her you were divorced."

The look Joe gives him provides the answer. "You know how Nona is, man. I was afraid if I told her, it might kill her." His voice softens on those last words, and Tony feels the anger start to subside.

Tony tilts his head to the side, trying to make sense of how Mel had ended up here. "You didn't ask Tiffany to come?" Not that he wants her here. That bitch can rot, for all he cares. No one is allowed to hurt his brother like that.

Joe snorts, grimacing. "That's the first thing I did. She reminded me we weren't married, that she owed me nothing, and hung up." There is bitterness in his tone, but it is an old bitterness, one that has three years to fade. He doesn't sound as broken up about it as he might have been, once.

"So you had Mel pretend to be her." Tony is starting to understand now.

For the first time during their tense conversation, a smile begins to flit across Joe's face. "She didn't want to, at first. She refused. But I think the kids helped convince her."

"The kids?" Tony is momentarily distracted. "You brought Lennox and Ryder here?"

Joe shrugs. "Sure, why not? They wanted to come, and their story hasn't changed. They're still 'Tiffany's' niece and nephew that we took in after their parents went to jail."

Tony diverts him back to the conversation at hand before he gets too distracted. "Fine. But Mel agreed?"

Again, the soft smile is back. "You should have seen it, man. I was on the phone with Nona, explaining to her that Tiffany couldn't make it, and Mel comes marching into the room, pulls the phone out of my hand and does a spot-on Tiffany impression." Joe shakes his head, his admiration clear. "She told Nona she'd be there and hangs up. She was so proud of herself. And a little disgusted, I think," he muses, frowning slightly.

Tony just stares at his older brother. _Holy shit._ Clearly, a lot has happened in the year and a half (or has it been two years?) since he has last seen Joe and Mel. Last time, when he confronted Joe about Mel, there was only a hint of this affection. Now, Joe is all but wearing his heart on his sleeve. Tony has plenty of women who are friends (most of them ex-lovers), and if he asked them to go to Jersey with him and play dress-up and pretend to be his ex-wife, they'd laugh in his face.

Tony looks up from his internal musings to find Joe staring at him. "What?"

"Why do you care?" Joe asks. "Nona bought it, and she thinks Mel is Tiffany! Everybody wins!"

Tony shrugs, then smirks at his brother. "I was just thinking that I don't know too many people that would be willing to come home with me and fool my dying grandmother."

Joe shifts uneasily, dark eyes darting away. "Mel and I are just friends, Tony. You know that."

"Bull," Tony says easily, and Joe stiffens like he's about to charge him again. Tony has a brief flashback to that day in Mel's basement, when he and Joe fought, Tony shouting accusations that Joe did not deny. "That's some friend, to do that for you. You have to pretend to be married _all weekend_."

Joe glares at him. "We're friends," he repeats, but this time, he doesn't sound so sure.

Tony holds up his hands, smirking, not really wanting to get into another fight with his brother. He too, is only here for the weekend. "Whatever you say."

Joe starts forward, growling, but at that moment, the door swings open behind him and Theresa peers out into the garage.

"Ma said you were out here," she announces. "Are you two done being stupid yet? Tony, how could you come home and not see me? What is wrong with you?"

Sighing, Tony ducks past Joe and goes to give his sister a hug. "How've you been, 'Reese?"

She is off and chattering, so like their mother, something about Lennox and Marco (he'll have to check on that later), and Joe squirms by them in the narrow hallway, intent on getting somewhere. "Need to go check on Mel and the kids," he mutters and Tony glances at his sister and raises an eyebrow. She smirks in response, letting him know wordlessly that there will be stories later.

* * *

The stories come later that night, as they're cleaning up from the part. Tony is munching on _capicola_, and Theresa is telling him about Nona's first meeting with Mel as she flicks soapy dishwater at him occasionally, often to punctuate a certain moment. The conversation stills as Gloria enters the kitchen, looking tired but satisfied.

"Well, Nona's finally down for the night," she tells them, leaning against the counter. The _clink _of a glass decanter against the counter draws her children's gazes, and they both stare at the dark liquid inside, eyes wide.

"Ma, you didn't…" Theresa is the first to speak, her jaw hanging open. Tony can only sit there, brows raised in disbelief.

"I didn't," their mother retorts, nails tapping against the glass, "your Nona did."

Theresa giggles, and Tony just stares at the Brew of the Rabbits, awed. "Of course Nona did," he mutters, finding it hard to keep from laughing himself. It's just old, very strong liquor, a Longo family tradition, something brought out only at important family celebrations.

"She told them it was a love potion, didn't she?" Theresa is giggling like a schoolgirl, for all that she is a grown woman with a husband and children.

Gloria grins at them both. "She didn't, but I may have."

"Ma!" Tony exclaims, chuckling. "You didn't!"

"Please," their mother places a hand reverently on the ornate glass stopper. "After all you told me last year Tony, after visiting them, how could I not?"

"She's all he talks about," Theresa confides, abandoning the dishes entirely in favor of gossip. "I think they're both stubborn."

Tony nods. "Oh, they are. Getting him to tell me why she was here was tough, but once he did, he didn't stop. I've never seen him like that," he continues, wondering, "not even with Tiffany."

"Clearly," his mother snorts, her disdain clear, "or they'd still be married."

Theresa scowls at the mention of Tiffany and mutters something under her breath that sounds like _trollop_, then brightens. "Do you think they bought it?"

Gloria gives them a smug smile, well pleased. "I think they did. Mel doesn't know any better, and Joe _wants _to believe it, I think. The way they were eyeing each other all night makes me think it worked. Well, and Nona scolded them last night for not being a better married couple."

Tony chokes on a piece of _capicola_, he's laughing so hard. "I bet they loved that!"

Gloria drums the decanter one more time and puts it back in the cabinet with the rest of the family's liquor. "If anyone can get them together, Nona might be able to do it."

Theresa studies her mother. "Ma, is that why you made such a big fuss about Joe coming home and convincing Nona that Tiffany had to come too?"

When their mother only grins, Tony stares her. "Ma, that was you? Joe said it was Nona!"

"Well," Gloria admits not-so-humbly, smiling, "Nona had the idea. I just convinced her it was a good one."

"Ma, that's genius," Tony breathes, food forgotten for the moment. His mother pats his cheek and smiles at him, pleased by the compliment, but Theresa _hmmphs_ and plunges her hands back into the soapy water.

"I don't know if Nona will get them to admit anything. If I know Joe, he can be kind of stupid about these things."

Gloria considers her daughter. "You think Joe would ignore his dying grandmother's wish that he sleep in the same bed as the woman playing his wife?"

Theresa glances back over her shoulder, eyes gleaming as she grins. "I take it back," she says slowly. "With that and the Brew of Rabbits, maybe we will get something out of this after all."

Gloria pushes away from the counter and sails back into the living room to make sure that everything is back in order. "I'm hoping for a wedding."

In the silence that follows, Theresa spins away from the sink to stare in shock at their mother's retreating figure and Tony chokes on his food. The siblings stare at each other, and Tony slowly shakes his head.

"Well," he tells his sister, "I might as well get my tux now. You know Ma and Nona always get what they want."

_Fin_

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**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated! **


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